


Scenario Failure

by LynxOnSmoothies



Series: RESTART or REPLAY? [3]
Category: OFF (Game), OFF (Mortis Ghost), OFF by Mortis Ghost - Fandom, Off
Genre: AU of an AU, Angst, Both canon lore and headcanon lore, Character Death, Definitely read RESTART first, Do I even need to warn you of language?, F/M, Female Player (OFF), Graphic Violence, Headcanon Portrayals of Characters, Horror, Implied/Reference Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Like Dedan is listed, Like I said read RESTART first, Lore - Freeform, More characters/tags later, New Characters!, No Beta, Not Gameplay Compliant, Obsession, Plot Reasons, Rating May Change, Starts from Dedan Fight, Unreliable Narrator, Worldbuilding, descriptions of torture, this is going to be a RIDE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynxOnSmoothies/pseuds/LynxOnSmoothies
Summary: Did you know that if you run a program enough times, something is liable to break?(Not on hiatus or abandoned, I'm just slow to update this one)
Relationships: ???/The Player, Dedan/The Player
Series: RESTART or REPLAY? [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717540
Comments: 18
Kudos: 36





	1. W̫͔̣͈̰͔̄̂̑ͩȧ̢̳ͅń̶̗̟̠͉̟̒ṉ̞̥͉̖̭͚̣͗ͭ͒ͤa̛̖͚̫̰͑̏̽ ͬͫ͆͐b̈ŕ͉̙̝̦̦͂̿͡ea̷̙̻̰̟͊͛̔k͓̰ͬ̆͞ ͈͕͕͓͚͔̞ͩͮ͊̚̕s̐̾̾͏̙̙̺͈̞̼̝ͅoṃ̩̜̞̾͊̉̌̕e̬̬͇͇̞̣̅̂͆͡ ̛̖̣̭̯͇̃m̑̿ḭ̦̬̽̔ͬrͤ̈ͫ̈́͏͉̖̠̞̙ŕ̵̦͈̼̰͇̍̏o̴̙̥͚̯̒rͩͬ̍͟s̸̯͎͔͈ͥ?ͯ̓̓ͧ (Error: Failure to Connect)

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not read RESTART, please do so before continuing. This is an AU of that story, and it provides important context and plot for this story (as do the headcanons from Corrupted Save, but those are completely optional I guess).

Dedan’s eyes fixed on her, holding her in place.

The Batter bristled, moving to block Dedan’s view. He lifted his bat. “I am here to eliminate you.” Dedan looked at the man, bursting into raucous laughter. He _knew_ why the Batter was here; it was plainly writ upon his face. Dedan was a **threat** to his position with the little doll, and he was here to remove the threat. The fool was jealous.

How adorable.

“Ya think ya stand a chance against me? Me?!” Dedan chortled at the Batter, taking another drag from his cigar as his accent thickened. “Ya’re insane.” He gestured around himself grandly, eyes glowing with a cruel mirth. “I’m the guardian a’ zone 1. It ain’t _nothin’_ without me! What mental disorder got ya blind faith to hide even the slightest bit of evidence from yourself?” The Player focused on what Dedan had said. The Guardian?

“Wait,” she spoke up, drawing both males' attention. “What do you mean you’re the Guardian of zone 1?” Dedan leaned back in his chair, smoke curling up through his teeth, hazing the area around his eyes. It seemed to crackle like s̖̪̞ͫͦͤṭ͉̗̬͕̇͜a̖̝̔͊͐̆t̙̜͖̦̣̟͔̥̆͝ḯ̳̺̘̥̯͇ͤͫc̴͔̦͕̈ͧ. She was so small, he thought, tilting his head as he examined her. So pure.

_So delicate, like a little **doll.**_

“I’m tha’ lynchpin for this zone.” He sighed out another smoke laced breath between his teeth, the trails twisting above him. “Guardians keep a zone stable, by providin’ a central point a’ reality convergence. Without us…” He shrugged. The doll got the idea.

The Batter smirked. This was perfect. He could not purify the zone without killing Dedan; the zone would continue to exist in its current state with him here. It was the perfect excuse to kill him. “I’m the one who’s going to purify the world,” he said, his voice filled with barely contained glee. “And you’re the pest that eats away at the purity of this land.” He shifted stances, drawing his bat up to fight. “Prepare yourself.”

The Player shifted uncomfortably, something fuzzy at the edges of her sight. She liked Dedan; he was interesting... but the m̱͈̫̳͍͖̫ͫ̈ͨ́͝i̶͉̮͈͖̘̗ͥ̅s̋͂͒͏͙̣̠̮̟s̡̠̭̯̠̦̝͆̐į͈͇͖͇̄ơ̬̲̞̟̲̗̌ͪ— _no, wait_. She blinked, blinking at the static fuzzing the edges of her vision. The mission? What had she just been thinking? She shook her head sharply. It didn’t matter, they had to remove him to purify the zone. She flipped down her visor. First rule: never get attached.

**_Right?_ **

Dedan snarled, standing from his chair. He rent his claws through the top of his desk, the force catching and throwing the furniture into the meat pool. “Ya’ll taste tha’ pain, ya sick spirit.” He raised his hand, clenching his claws until they dug into his palms. “I’m gonna cut ya face to remove tha insufferable smile!” His roar rattled the room as he lunged forward, under the Batter’s swing. His claws slashed down the pale man’s front. He brought his head next to the Batter’s own, whispering with manic eyes. “And, I’ll take her from ya.”

The Batter recoiled, swinging his bat again, a wide swing to drive the general back. Dedan gave a screeching cackle as he leapt back, claws dripping with the Batter’s inky blood. The Batter snarled, jaw aching to stretch; he hated seeing his own blood, so filled with taint that it was like soot and ink.

_Dedan_

_Royal guardian of zone 1._

_HP: ??? / CP: ???_

_First Boss_

The Player nodded grimly at the information. She had thought so. Dedan looked like a powerhouse, so it followed that he would be a boss. “Hit him for a H̶̤̭̹͖͉̫̱̎ͬơ̟̳̪͕ͥͫ̊m̻̤̬͖̝̌͜e͕͉͔ͭ̈́̀̕R̴̜̺͎͚ͪ̂ͯ͛ṳ̢̰̪͈̩ͨ̋̃n̦̗̳̟̓ͣ̕.” The Batter swung his bat, striking Dedan in the side of the head. What had his Player just said?

The general let out a hiss, before snapping his teeth down on the bat, tearing chunks out of the wood. The Batter yanked his bat back, growling. “Drat. Batter, see if you can’t get a ŝ̪̦͇̳̬̒͂̐͢t̰͙̺̠̰̻ͤ̔͢a̵͎̦̝̱̭ͭͩ͋ẗ͔̘̣̦̤̜́͘ǘ̸̟̝ͩ̀͐ş͙͖̹̳͆ effect on him. Try the Saturated Chain!”

Something was interfering with his ability to hear his Player. Most likely a scheme by the scum he was fighting. He still understood. He swung his bat over his shoulder, and pulled the chain out, swinging wide. Dedan ducked, the toxic chain passing harmlessly overhead, and made his own attack. His claws dug trenches into the Batter’s leg, who roared in pain. He slammed the chain down on Dedan’s head, wrapping it tightly and he yanked.

The Player t̶̼̻̯̲͕̍́s̎̏̀҉͇̣k̟͈͔͎̮͍̭̐e̵̪̰͔̗̖͍̹̻ͣ̌̎̋d̨̗͕̝̗̉͌̓, stepping back slightly to give them more room. “No effect.” Dedan clawed at the chain, catching his own skin as he ripped it off his head and out of the Batter’s hands. He discarded it behind him, black blood dripping down his face as he grinned. Blood just as tainted as the Batter’s own.

“Com’on, ya can do bettah than that,” he taunted, licking his blood off his fangs. He darted forward, raking his claws down the Batter’s side, and slipping away before the Batter could hit him with his bat. “I’ve seen Tiburce with hardah hits, ya pansy!” The Batter snarled, whipping Alpha off his wrist and tossing it at the general. It wrapped around him, pinning his arms down in a Long Awaited Embrace. Dedan began straining, muscles cording as he growled at the white ring. “Ya think I can’t still fight, ya little shit? Ya think I can’t still _win_? I’ll fuck you up.” He kicked out at the Batter, connecting with his knee and snapping the joint backward. A strangled roar left the Batter as he went down, and Dedan brought his leg out in a sweeping kick, like an Hour Hand, smacking into the Batter’s face. He went flying into the wall, sliding down next to his S̸͔̘̱͙̠̟͋a̲̻̮̳̘̤̪̜̍̾͜t͔̝̄ͪ̏ͤ͢u̞͎̪̿̋͠r̪̲̉͊̆a̭̥̗ͨ̕ͅt̯͙̮̭̼͛ͧ͞e̺̺͖̘̯͕̥̬͋̎͐̏͢d̢͖͎̯̗͇̬̤ͧͪͦ ̝͎̃̽͊ͪ͟C̔҉̣̳̯̣͕̝̼h̢̦̗̟͓̙̬ͫ̅â̢͕̪ȉ̔̂҉̭̺͉̭̝̺ͅn̆̇̉̔͏͔̫͍̞͉—next to nothing, dazed.

Dedan took the moment of distraction to free himself from Alpha, who flew back to the Batter. Dedan chortled at the limp man, striding forward to deal a final blow while he was insensible. “Crap,” The Player said, fumbling in the menu. Why was it so fuzzy? “Luck Ticket!” She crushed it in her hand and tossed it at the Batter, the item vanishing into dust before it reached him. He stood up, shaking his head as he regained his sense, struggling to stand on his destroyed knee. His Player watched anxiously. They were getting their asses kicked.

Batter moved forward roughly, smacking Dedan under the chin with his bat, sending him stumbling back. Alpha darted at him, slicing across the general’s exposed chest. Dedan swatted Alpha out of the air, the ring smacking into the ground. The Batter launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Dedan’s neck, trying to strangle him. Dedan snarled, tearing at the Batter’s arms around his neck as Alpha rose unsteadily into the air, moving to nip slices at the choked general.

Dedan managed to get a grip on the Batter’s arms, yanking him from his body and tossing him back to the wall. The Batter caught himself, steadying himself against the wall, one hand pressing into the surface, black dripping from the contact. Both Batter and Dedan were injured, black blood flowing into pools at their feet, oozing into the meat fountains, turning them murky. Batter was in far worse shape.

They were losing.

After a long moment, Dedan began laughing. “Ya little shit! Look what ya’ve done.” He gestured to the Player, who stood behind Dedan in the doorway, watching quietly. Her eyes were wide. _This wasn’t right. _“She’s kept ya alive this long, but what is that worth? Ya can’t kill me; I’m a guardian.” He sneered. “Even if ya could, what good would it do ya? She’s seen how vicious ya are.” His voice lowered, till the Player could no longer hear. “Ya think she’ll accept ya _now_?” The Batter growled, grabbing his bat from his back, stumbling forward to swing. Dedan laughed, dodging the pitiful attack easily. “Ya think she’ll stick around?” The Batter smashed his bat into Dedan’s ẗ̢͉͙̬͇̾̚ḥ̖̟̈̒ͦ͂͘r̜̻͔̹̽̃ͯȯ͓͙̬̈́ͧ̂ḁ̤̝̥̮̣̈́͜ͅt͒̑ͤ—into Dedan’s hand.

Dedan sneered, tightening his grasp as he yanked the bat from the Batter’s hands. He kicked him back, raising his knee and snapping the bat over it with ease, discarding it like trash. The Batter swiped the tar-like blood from his lips, snarling. His bat lay shattered behind the general, who was taking the moment to examine the Batter’s blood on his claws.

The Player flinched, swiping to try and bring up the menu. It fuzzed into view for a moment, before it f̸̦̙̆̐ͅi̡̲̝̫̼͍̊z̴̺̫ͣ̐̃͑ͅz̲͉̬͕̤̭̻͔ͦ̒ͧ͡l̴͕̫͉̟͔̣̬͛̌̊̊e̵̦̼̔ͨd̵̳͙̫͈̰̮͖͒ͭ̊ away. _No…a glitch?_ She tried again, and again, again, again. It wouldn’t stay. She couldn’t get to the items. **She couldn’t heal him.**

“Disgusting _freak_ ,” the general snarled, swinging his hand down to flick the droplets off. The Batter coughed, his eyes locked on the smaller figure behind his assailant.

His Player.

**_He was losing. HE waS goinGTO loseher._ **

“ _Run._ ” He choked out, struggling to his feet. She hesitated. She didn’t want to leave him. If it were not for the circumstance, he would feel touched. He would not **_lose her he could findher annnyyyyywwwwwhhhhheeeerrrrreeeee_**. “ **G _o_**.” She turned and disappeared from the doorway.

Dedan spun, snarling. “Now where do you think you’re going, _doll?_ ” **_nnooo_**

As Dedan took a step after the Player, the Batter made his move. His body _cracked_. False skin sloughed off as his bones stretched and snapped. A roar escaped his lengthening jaws, as terrible fangs sprang up from his jaws. His tail whipped out, catching Dedan between the shoulder blades.

“Ya _bitch!_ ” Dedan swung around, grasping the Batter’s tail. He locked eyes with the glowing red—

and began laughing.

“Oh tha’s **rich**! I get it now!” He dug his claws into the Batter’s leathery skin and wrenched him around. The Batter impacted the wall, snarling. “She doesn’t know, does she? She doesn’t know ya’re a _freak like this huh?_ ”

The Batter clawed his way up the wall, launching himself back at Dedan. The general met him strike for strike, claws tearing into the leathery skin of the Batter’s true form. His tail came up, smashing into Dedan’s head, sending the man flying into the meat pool. The Batter stalked to the edge of the pool, waiting to see if his opponent would surface.

It was quiet for a long moment. The Batter chuffed, tossing his head back to release a booming laugh. Agony ripped through his ankles as claws sliced through the tendons in his feet, and he was yanked into the meat pool. Clawed hands slashed across the Batter’s face, catching and tearing his eyes, and he thrashed under the liquid. Bubbled rose from his snout as he roared, Dedan pushing away from the flailing form to leap from the pool.

The general shrugged off his soaked coat, tossing it to the side carelessly. “Tch. Ya got me all wet, ya fucking freak.” He lightly touched the gashes on his chest, rubbing his blood between his claws. Dedan chuckled, tongue snaking out to lick the blood from his claws. A gasp as the Batter emerged from the pool, clinging to the edge. He was trying to pull his skin back on, to hide his wounds.

It wouldn’t bring back his sight.

**_ it was so dark here _ **

“Fucking hell, don’t know when ta give up, do ya?” The general raised boot above the Batter’s desperately clinging hands and stomped. The Batter gave a choked sound, his other hand grasping at Dedan’s boot. He was easily kicked off, the steel-capped boot colliding with his face squarely.

Before Batter could fall back into the pool, Dedan grasped the front of his ripped tunic and slung him into the wall beneath the windows. The Batter slumped down the wall, limp as Dedan loomed over him. Punch after punch rained down on the tattered form of the Batter, Dedan cackling. After what seemed to be forever, Dedan straightened up, dragging the Batter up with him.

“Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.” Dedan tilted his head, watching the blinded Batter grasp weakly at his wrist. “I thought ya had more in ya, that ya might even be a threat.” He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

“Good fucking joke, right?”

Holding the limp form of the Batter high, Dedan dangled him out the window of the room. “Enjoy tha ride down. I’ve got a _doll_ to catch up ta.” The Batter weakly pulled at the clawed hand holding the front of his shirt, red eyes desperately trying to focus on the general, black blood dripping from the torn sockets. This wasn’t right, he had to win. He **had _to_** —

Dedan let go

and

the 

Batter

Fell.

* * *

Flicking her visor up, the Player stumbled down the long train of stairs **_was she moving at all? why couldn’t she move faster?_** , sounds of battle echoing down the steps with her own panicked breathing. She needed to reach a Save Point. She could access the nothingness there—that should bring them both to a safe area. She could heal the Batter up, and they could try again.

Stumbling on the last step, the Player burst out of the building, gasping. Rain immediately began to soak into her clothing. It sounded like ş͖͍͍̗͖̝ͨ͌t̴̺̻̠̠͍̞͎͉ͫ̊̐a̡͈̝̘ͬͯt̴̺͖̠̻̆ͧͮi̜͚̯̭̦̘ͭ͟c͋̂̓͗͏͈͓̫̻̹.̯̬͖̳̘̩̤͇̅͜ It drowned out the sound of her heavy breathing, creeping at the edges of her eyes. She staggered out through the courtyard **_was it longer? why couldn’t she move faster?_** , the distance to the cube not seeming to shrink at all. It was like she was pulling against a tether, fighting for each step.

_T̤̰̞̠̝ͥͮ͟ů̢͍͍̲ͧͫ̚r̰̥̪͉͎ͮ͘n͎̣͇̜̉ͬͭ̕ ̴̼̳̱͑a̵̪͙͎̖̔̍ͮr̤̲̼̯͉̒ͦͅo̸̯͚͍͔̣͒̐ͩ **u̡̪̠͖̣̪̺̫͓̽n̟̦̱̪̥͂ͨ͢d̾̑̚͏̙̻͙̲̤̙̘ͅ.̛̥̹̮̫̘͋ ̹̦̃ͤ̉͡S̢̰͎̀ͪͅḝ̩̹̮͓̖̜̩̾̾ͅe̶̪̳̬͚ͯ ͎̲̩̯̲̑ͥ̈͠i͕͕ͤ͑͝t̪̺̲̬̘̫̓͢ ̮̦̥ͬ͗͠h̡͍̪̟͎̐͑ͬ̚ā̫̗͙̼̩̥͗͋͜ͅp̸̥̩̞̝̳̅ͅp͈̟̅̑̐͟e̴͖̬̹̮̙̩͇͑ͥͅn̨̙͖̦̣͚̤ͪ̈͑.̶͔̠̣͍̗͓̼͛͋̓̿**_

Something made the Player stop her staggering run and turn back to the building. At the very top, something was being dangled out a window, its white clothing stained black. Something tugged at her. She knew what—who—that was. “No. No. NO!” She screamed desperately as the figure began plummeting down the side of the building.

He had lost.

She was too late.

She had to run.

Turning away, she stumbled and fell, scraping her knees on the metal ground. She choked back a sob. _This was all wrong._ Bile rose in her throat, choking her as she dragged herself on her feet. It burned, as she fought to continue to the cube sitting not too far from her. Her legs gave out just short of the cube, leaving her to crawl forward to reach it, rain soaking the front of her clothes. Desperately pressing her hands against the cube, the Player gasped for air. Why wasn’t it activating? She didn’t have that much time.

_S̨͔̯̭̺͚̼̖͊ͬ̅ͅh̢̗̳̳͊̇ḛ͙̺̩͔͙̣ͩ̾ͮ̍͘ ͍̖̇͠ď̦̬̪̖̻̪̆i̅̂̂d̺̫̯̪ͤ̆̓̾͟n̵̸̥̦̖̞̦̝͔͈ͯͧ̓̒'̳̺̰̳ͩ͊̃̎͢t̥̤̱̱͎̊̓͢ ̟̹̠̳̃͟h͛̇̀͂a̻͓̯ͮͬ͜v̢̫͕̦̼̱͌̇ͬ̆ẻ̡͓̟̲͖̽ ̩̫͇̦̲̙̬̮͊̅ͩ͞t̰̠͊̉̉̂͞ì̖̮̭̱̯m̫̜̝̟̻̻͖͂͊̿̈́͘ͅe̓͛͋҉͍͚͓̘̜͓̺ ̫̤̺̙̙͉̱̈́ͩ͋̄͘ͅt̨̙̦̗̦ͧ̈́̽o͚̼̊̅̄̓̕ ̭̱͎̘̬̣̤͇ͭ͊͞wͨ͂̂͏͓̦̺ͅͅa̲̪̦̗͇͉͙ͤ̔͜i̖̻͋̓̽̏ţ̝̦͚̲̺ͦ̿.̤̫̯̄̅̔͠_

**::WARNING: Unable to find connection. Please reconnect to assigned avatar.**

No. No. No.

**::WARNING: Unable to find connection. Please reconnect to assigned avatar.**

**::WARNING: Unable to find connection. Please reconnect to assigned avatar.**

**::WARNING: Unable to find connection. Please reconnect to assigned avatar.**

**::WARNING: Unable to find connection. Please reconnect to assigned avatar.**

A sob caught on the Player’s gasping breathes as she kept slamming her hands against the unresponsive cube. Each time brought the same text, words she refused to accept. The edge of the cube cut into her palm, and she drew back, cradling her hand to her chest.

Curling in on herself, the Player let out a small sob, pressing her face to her knees as she knelt in the rain. The light pink plastic rain had soaked through her shirt by now, her hair dripping with the fluid.

Did she do something wrong? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The sob cut through her like a knife. This was wrong.

_She didn’t have anywhere to run now._

The smell of smoke curled around her, the constant pelting of the rain suddenly ceasing. She didn’t dare turn around, shrinking in on herself even farther.

“Now, what are ya doin’ out here in tha rain, _d o l l ?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for a fucking ride? Pardon my language, but I am PUMPED. That said, this story will likely not be updated frequently until RESTART is completely posted, so don't expect regular posts yet. 
> 
> I would like to state a warning. This is non-gameplay compliant. As such, it is based largely on a universe I had to build for it. And OFF is not a happy place. Take that as you will. Hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :)


	2. C̸̜̿ą̷̉r̵̰̃e̶̢͌f̷̻̌u̵̹͊l̴̖̆,̴̛̪ ̸̨̄b̶̖̍r̷͒͜o̶̭͝k̶͓̈́e̷̫̓n̴̜̎ ̸̼̈́t̶̻́ḩ̷̃i̸̞̓n̵͉͝g̶̯̔s̶̰͑ ̴̙̓h̷̤̎u̵͔̍r̶͓̕ẗ̴̯́ (Error: Location Not Found)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Rated MA for disturbing themes regarding implied rape and genocide.**

She didn’t dare to turn around, smoke clogging her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, she had to _move, she had to **go now**_. Struggling to get her legs under her, the Player was gasping. Her limbs were jelly, shaking and weak, unable to stand on the rain slicked metal beneath her.

Large clawed hands curled around her shoulders, holding her still. “I believe I asked ya a question, doll.” He crouched down behind her, still dwarfing her curled form with ease. Teeth brushed her teeth as he chuckled, feeling how she trembled under his hands. “Now, no need for tha’. Jus’ need ya ta breathe, doll.” His voice rumbled against her back, smoke laced breath whispering past her ears as he spoke.

Spots started to crowd the Player’s vision. She couldn’t breathe, there was no air, only smoke. She had failed. The Batter was gone, she couldn’t leave the zone, she couldn’t access the system. There were no do-overs. **_There was no out._**

She felt weightless and leaden, the plastic rain dripping down her shoulders, black spots filming her vision. Sharp pain in her shoulders cut through some of the static. “I fuckin’ said ya need ta breathe, doll.” She was pressed to his chest, black blood soaking her shirt into that same tar color. The rain had stopped. No. It hadn’t stopped. She was inside now.

Dedan had been carrying her. _When had he picked her up? How had she not noticed?_ She took stuttering breathes, desperately drawing the smoke laden air into her lungs, tasting the smoke of his cigars on her tongue. Slowly but surely the black receded from her eyes. However, it was not the appearance of the Alma office that greeted her.

The Player’s eyes darted about. She was in a hallway she didn’t recognize, a door at the end framing the pouring rain dashing against the ground. Dedan never broke stride as she struggled lightly, weak from fear in her limbs. “Tha’s cute, doll, but it won’t do ya any good.” All the Player’s struggles stopped upon being brought through the door.

They were in a street.

An actual street, of muted greens and sooty greys, with streetlights, bordered on either side by buildings of brick and mortar. That…that couldn’t be right. That didn’t make sense; this world was not _this_ , not a cityscape that made her think of N̸͓̬͕̰̲̤͇̟͖̪͔̬͔̈́͐ȩ̴̛͇͉̭͉̣̭̼̑͑̌̅͊w̵̰̲̰̟͔̝̞͒̆͛̅̀̎͛͘ ̶̨̡̢̨̠͖͈̣̳̜̤͙̒̍͊͐̎̍͋͛͆͘͠Y̸̨̲̺͙͍̙̙͈̼͍͇̖̞̯̳̽̇̾̑̓o̵̢̧̘̦͚͓͎̯̣̗̐͌ŗ̷̡̡̬̳̟̹̮͇͇̔̊̍́̄̄̕̕͘͘k̸̡͙̥̼͍͇̪͉̯͈̽̾̀͌͐̔͗̊̚. A soft purring engine could just be heard over the static of the rain, as a vehicle pulled up in front of Dedan. It was all clean, rounded lines and old school elegance.

If one discounted the front grill of spikes and the heavy metal plating along the back.

An Elsen stepped out of the driver’s seat, giving a trembling bow as it opened the back door for Dedan. “Y…Your ride…s-sir…” Dedan didn’t even grace the stuttering thing with a look, slipping into the back of the lovechild of a tank and a Mercedes-Benz. The inside was maroon siding and black leather, smelling of Dedan’s cigar smoke and something sharper. The windows were tinted dark, blocking out the light of the streetlamps, leaving the Player and Dedan in near darkness.

This was wrong. There were no vehicles in zone 1, it was an industrial zone—it was farms and mines and industry _~~but that was all she had seen, what was to say that was all there was? Why did she assume that it was nothing more?~~ _A clawed hand grasped her own, yanking it roughly from where she had it pressed to her chest. Dedan clicked his tongue, thumb brushing the oozing cut on the Player’s palm. She winced, trying to pull her hand from his iron grasp. It was like trying to move a manacle.

“Tch. Tha’ fuck is this? Ya got hurt already?” He chuckled, tilting his head to look down at the Player in his lap. His white eyes glowed lightly, casting shadows on them both. “Too fuckin’ delicate, ain’t ya doll? Gonna have ta be gentle.” It was hard to breathe again, her chest constricting. She didn’t like the implications there.

She swallowed, trying to focus. She couldn’t panic again, she needed to keep her head. The Player repeated that over and over, as the vehicle smoothly passed through the city, looming buildings growing further to monumental stature as the Elsen drove them further into the city center.

It could have been minutes or hours later that the car glided to a stop; time seemed to crawl as she was held on her capturer’s lap. Dedan didn’t bother to wait for the Elsen in the front to hop out to open his door, shoving it open carelessly. Stepping out, he tightened his hold on the Player as she stared up at the building before her.

It was huge, hundreds of lit windows lining the multistory monolith of steel and green brick. Large doors were before her, warm light pouring through the glass of the doors, iron wrought filigree lacing across the glass to cast shadows on the sidewalk before the building. As Dedan took them closer, two looming figures swiftly opened the doors for him, not a whisper of sound escaping either of the giants as they moved.

Those…those weren’t Elsen.

The Player blinked at the lobby, trying to register what she could see. Dedan strode too quickly for her to get a good look, reds and greys in blurs before he had them in an elevator. He quickly stabbed in the number for his desired floor, and the elevator began to swiftly rise. It was far faster than the elevator at the Postal Office, roomier too. Not that it mattered. The Player clenched her hands, ignoring the crackle of the open wound on her palm, the trickle of blood starting back up at the pull of the skin.

She closed her eyes as the elevator stopped. He carried her down a hall the only door on the floor. Opening her eyes, the Player was unable to see much of anything before she was before a door. Dedan threw it open, the frame shaking at the impact.

It was a bedroom. A queen bed sat against one wall, with bedside tables framing it. Her heart stuttered, vision constricting till she could see nothing but that bed. _Why had he brought her to a bedroom?_ Bile rose in her throat. No, she had it wrong. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t—

Dedan threw her to the bed in the room.

“Someone will be by later, drop off some items for your hands. Fuckin’ fix them, doll.” With that, the General left the room, the door slamming shut. She could hear a lock click before his boots moved away, the sound muffled by the thick door. Silence.

A choked sob as the Player curled in on herself, a bitterly painful relief in her chest. She had been so sure, for just one moment that he was going to… Tears burned her eyes, ones that she quickly wiped away. She sat up, taking stock of the room. _Don’t think about it._ It was fairly simple, if not elegant. It was clearly unlived in, perhaps a guest room of wherever Dedan had taken her. Two doors were on the right of the room. The left was a small sitting area, the wall one large window.

Standing on shaking legs, and holding her arms around herself to ward the chill of her wet clothes, the Player moved to see what was behind the doors. One led to a fairly nice bathroom, a bathtub and toilet present, the vanity and sink in metal and marble. It was an odd combination, but she felt it suited the General.

The other door was a small walk-in closet, bare of anything. This was most certainly a guest room, the Player decided as she sniffled. Shivers shook her body, a combination of the adrenaline falling, shock, and the chill of the air on her wet skin. While she was still leery of the bed, she quickly yanked the blanket off the top and wrapped it around herself. Huddling into it for a bit of warmth, and ignoring how her blood stained the fabric, she sat on the floor away from the bed.

Flashes of light dashed across the room from the giant window. Shakily standing up, blanket wrapped around her shoulders in a bare comfort, the Player moved. Slowly stepping to the window, she could feel an increase of dread. Looking past her own reflection, the Player could barely breathe. Beyond the glass was a sprawling city, lit up by countless halogen lights like stars in the sky. She could see vehicles and small figures skittering in the streets. It teemed with life, bustling even in the twilight dark of the sky.

_It looked nothing like the zone 1 she had just been in. ~~was that all a lie?~~_

Looking at the countless buildings, all presumably filled with Elsen, the Player felt bile rise in her throat. It was starting to hit her. That was a city. That was a _city._ oh god. There were so many people. This wasn’t some small outcropping of corrupted life in this world, like she had thought. She had been assigned to assist in a **_genocide, hadn’t she?_** Falling to her knees, the Player couldn’t stop the vomit from pouring from her lips to the wood floors. Hacking and wheezing, she couldn’t breathe, the sour taste lingering in her mouth.

Flashes of memory darted through her mind.

**::Your name is (), correct?**

**::Welcome then, ().**

More vomit poured from her lips, splattering against her pants. It burned hot, mixing with the tears she shed.

**::This being is known as The Batter. You have been assigned to assist him.**

**::The Batter has a very important mission, be sure he accomplishes it.**

An important mission? A fucking _genocide._ She didn’t know ~~_hadn't known_~~ the Batter, she didn’t know her task. She had agreed to assist him on nothing more than her instructions and trust. How fucking blind was she? He had to **_PURIFY_** the zones, and she hadn’t asked what that meant. Giggles escaped her lips, no mirth in them.

She hadn’t asked.

**::Zone 0 is his first destination. Good luck.**

Hysterical laughter. Good luck? _Good luck?_ Like she hadn’t been told to slaughter.

**::For more information, find the one called “The Judge”.**

The Judge. The smirk he always wore, the jabs he sent the Batter’s way. Had he known? Did he know? Did he know that the Batter was supposed to destroy everything? She had nothing left in her stomach to vomit. **_She had nothing left to give._**

Flopping back away from the puddle, the Player put her back against the cool window. She dropped her head to her knees, sobbing and trying to breathe. Oh god, what was she going to do? More thoughts crowded her mind. The Batter was gone **_the instrument of the horrible task she was starting to realize she had to complete,_** the General had taken her somewhere in zone 1, and what did that mean for her?

What was going to happen to her?

Black filled her eyes as she fought to breathe. There was no air, only smoke. She couldn’t breathe. Tears on her face and lights from the city at her back, the Player slumped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hell chapter to write. It’s a setup chapter, and it should not have been as hard to write as it was. Help. If the next chapter doesn’t flow easier, I might have to cave and find someone to ping ideas off of for this fic. So much world-building, and I just want to PLOT.
> 
> And poor Player. She's had those rose lens ripped right off her face, hasn't she?


	3. S̷̡̎͒̽h̵͎̗̽͐̑̅̀ā̵̓̈͌̇̒͂̂̈́̃̕̕r̷̛̄̂͊͗̍̔͋̃͆͆͝d̵̈́̆̔͋̑̊̊͘s̷̹̿͑̀͐́̈ m̵̞͚͓͍̞͔͈̞̠̄̅̆͆̃̾a̴̻̋̑̈́̑̏̇͝k̴̛̂̾͑̑̀͗̚̚̕e̵̛͚̙̩͔͍̼̝̼̍̒͆̐͆̔ ̵̧̢̹͙̯̫͓̮͉̻̟̰̠́̓̈́͌̃ą̴̛̗͚̤͙̮͙͖̝͗ͅ ̸̢̢͍͖̟̳͗̋̒W̸̝͑͗h̴͇̜̥̳̫̫̠͗̄ö̷͚̃͐̽̕l̶̈̆e̷͗͆̒̄̉̅̇̓ (Error: Problem Loading World)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Warnings: This is PG as hell.

Her eyes burned, lids sticking together as the Player fought to pry them open. Light streamed in from the windows to smack her eyes, making her whine a bit. Her body ached, still leaned up against the cool glass of the window. She wrinkled her nose, smelling the sour of her vomit in the air. Gross.

She raised her head, blinking blearily—and tensed up so tightly that her muscles cramped. There was someone near the door. More blinking, rapid as she tried to clear the tear film from her eyes. Oh, it was an Elsen. It held a tray covered in objects, precariously tilting as it struggled under its weight. Its little black eyes met her own and it screamed, dropping the tray. The items toppled off as it scrambled back to the door and slammed it before the Player could beg it to stay.

The lock on the door clicked loudly in the ensuing silence, as the Player tried hard to not be mortally offended. Wow. She stood up, rubbing her eyes to clear the crusting around the edges. She caught sight of her reflection in the glass, and grimaced. She couldn’t blame it, it seemed. She looked more like a ghoul than a person: her eyes were swollen and red from crying, dark eye bags circling them, her hair bedraggled from being out in the plastic rain the night before. And that wasn’t even considering the smell of her vomit on her, and the potential body odor she was emanating.

She would have run from herself as well.

She sighed, running a hand through her crunchy hair, looking out beyond her reflection to the now bustling city beyond. It was light out again—or lighter? It was always a vague twilight, she noticed, but before… yesterday, she had only seen the brighter twilight. It had been this way the whole time she was in zone 0 and zone 1—she had assumed there was no day/night cycle in this world. The Player traced her fingers along the glass, outlining the buildings below. She was up so much higher than the surrounding structures, no equal visible to her. Apparently, her assumption was yet another thing she had been wrong about. Had she been right about anything so far? She was beginning to think she was an oblivious fool. Though, why had the day/night cycle not initiated previously? Was it just severely skewed, or was there another reason?

She stepped back from the glass, taking a deep breath—as she stepped right into her puddle of vomit. Oh, that was so gross. Stumbling back, she shucked her shoes, gagging slightly as she dropped them away from her. Ugh, there was still vomit on her legs too. She rubbed her hands over her face. She was just a mess.

The Player turned away from the mess she had made, catching sight of the tray again. Right. Standing over the scattered goods, she examined them. There was a rumpled pile of clothes, presumably folded nicely before their tumble. There was also an odd assortment of toiletries, spanning shampoos and conditioners to men’s shaving cream and safety razors. It almost appeared as if someone had gathered everything that could possibly have been qualified as useful. Did the Elsen not do this? Did Elsen not need toiletries, was that why there was such a spread? For that matter, why was it bringing her clothing and toiletries in the first place? She could assume it worked for Dedan, but she hadn’t thought that he would…

She shook her head, looking down at herself. She wouldn’t be getting those answers anytime soon and right now she had the opportunity to clean up—something she admitted she desperately needed. She was loathe to undress **_to leave herself exposed, vulnerable_** , but her desire to be out of her vomit and rain-soaked clothing was more than tempting. Tossing the clothing back onto the tray with the body wash and hair care, she carried it to the bathroom.

Stepping into the smaller room, she kicked the door shut. There was no lock on the door, but she set the tray down in front of the door. It would clatter if someone opened the door. It wasn’t a great solution, but it was better than being surprised completely. The Player pulled the items from the tray and placed them on the small shower shelf in the shower-tub. She took the clothing and set it on the floor near the shower, within easy reach. Turning on the plastic tap—she would kill for the soft feel of water on her skin, but that wasn’t possible here—she cast one last look at the door, noting the towel hung on the back.

Then she shucked her clothing and shoved herself under the lukewarm plastic. She didn't pause to enjoy the slow warmth building on her skin, her ears pricked for the slightest sound over the gentle patter of the shower. Nothing, as she scrubbed herself clean, eyes screwed shut to prevent plastic and chemicals from blinding her. All the products smelled of honey. Once she could no longer feel suds on her hands, she shut off the shower, still listening intently. Still nothing.

Stepping out of the shower, dripping slightly, the Player grabbed the clothing and got to work dressing. It was a dress, sporting subtle cutouts with polka dots along the skirt, and a nice set of thick, woolen tights. They were both a bit big on her, but they would do. They reminded her a bit of 1940s _~~E̴̩̟̙̺̲̙̗̠͎̟͗́̓̓̿̓͐̏͌͂̾͜͠͝ȗ̸̠̜͕̱́̽r̸͎̱̲̪̖̱̦̉͂̾͒͐̉̽̔̂̈́͂͠o̸̭̯̜̮͛͂p̷̧̥̙̑͊̈́̚ȩ̴̢̧̡̨͚̺͍̦̼͙̖̩̋̊̌͝ͅͅa̸̪̫̭̘̽̎͌̈̉̃̕͝ͅͅn̷̨̲̞̪̞̟̻̈͌͗̇̃͊̉̏͗̂̀̚̕~~_ fashion, if a tad more modern. It was… rather tasteful, actually. Surprising, seeing as the Elsen all wore identical suits and Dedan wore a bastardized version of a military uniform. Still, any appreciation for the clothing was dampened by the lack of shoes provided, the message clear.

She didn’t need them, not if she wasn’t to go outside.

She shut her eyes and grabbed the towel off the back of the door, drying her hair. Honestly, it was rather surprising that she had been provided with clothing at all, or toiletries. She was confused—and a little scared. She had clothing and toiletries in the System inventory for her, but she couldn’t access it at all without… Did Dedan know that? Was it a coincidence? Dropping the towel onto the countertop, the Player braced herself, meeting her own gaze in the reflection. Wide eyes looked at her. She hoped she was just thinking into it too much, but here she was. Captive. It was likely that Dedan was aware that she had lost all her defense when she lost the…him. It would take her a bit to get over failing him, over the lies he had apparently fed her regarding her purpose here.

Opening the door, the Player peered out into the room. She immediately noticed the lack of the sour smell of sick, replaced by something spicy and warm. A harsh shiver went down her spine at the cooler air, and the sight of a tray on the bed. She hadn’t heard anyone come in. She stepped further into the room carefully, watching the door to the room. She slowly made her way over, and quietly tried the handle. Locked. Turning back to the room, The Player could see the puddle of her vomit had been cleaned up as well—and that her shoes were missing. Shit.

Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.

After managing to calm herself down, the Player moved to inspect the tray sitting innocently on the bed. It had a large domed lid covering the contents, the metal warm to her touch. Lifting the lid up and off, the Player blinked. It was a plate with thick slices of what looked like bacon and a side of scrambled eggs. A halved fruit, possibly an orange, was set off to the side, a small jar of honey next to it. A mug steaming with the smell of coffee was in the corner. Sticking her tongue into the fluid made her grimace—it tasted of plastic. Setting the mug down, she cautiously tasted the items on the plate.

It was good, better than she was expecting honestly. Everything here consumed plastic, so she had expected the meat and eggs to taste more like the coffee. She snorted with a wry, bitter amusement. It had been a silly thought, in hindsight. Dedan seemed the exacting sort, not one to settle for anything other than top quality in anything he did. Or ate, it seemed.

A tap on the door had the Player choking on her bite of eggs. She smacked her chest frantically, trying to dislodge the bite of food. A stuttering voice came from the other side of the door as she fought for her life. “Um… i-is everything to your liking, m-miss?” It was an Elsen, presumably the one from before. It sounded terrified, though the Player supposed that was all Elsen, all the time. She managed to whack the egg from her throat, coughing lightly and breathing rapidly.

“It’s great,” she croaked out, wheezing lightly. The Elsen didn’t appear to notice anything wrong, or at least didn’t enquire as to why she sounded like hell. How nice. “Um, where am I though?”

The Elsen gave a little stuttered sound, like a mini-yelp. “O-oh, how rude of me! I’m so-sorry miss… you are in the Central Tower of New Alma.” Halting her hacking finally, the Player rolled that over in her mind. Not Alma, but _New Alma_. Growth.

“New Alma?”

“Yes, the capital of zone 1, located in the Main District.” The Elsen didn’t stutter once, sounding rather proud. It clearly had some sort of nationalistic pride regarding New Alma, or perhaps this Main District it mentioned. However, the implications were what the Player feared. She needed more information—if this zone was as populace as she suspected, then…

“…I thought zone 1 was just the mines and farms.”

It was quiet for a moment, before the Elsen piped up, near indigent. “Oh… no miss, zone 1 is, is actually pre-pretty big!” It sounded a tad confused though, as if it hadn’t expected her to think zone 1 was small. “The m-mines and the surrounding areas are… are the old districts.” She felt her chest tighten. Old districts, main districts—just how big was zone 1 actually?

“The old districts?”

“After the Queen placed General Dedan in charge of zone 1, he…he had us expand. The old dis-districts were from before he was instated as… Guardian.” She was quiet for a long moment, mulling over the information. Dedan worked directly under a Queen, presumably the ruler of all the zones. He was indeed a general, as she had assumed from his name and appearance. Dedan was likely responsible for the structure of the city behind her.

Dedan had a life before the zones. He wasn’t always the Guardian. That was what was sticking in her mind, causing the most issues. That meant he had presumably been around before the zones were zones, before whatever calamity or corruption had occurred. He would know what had caused it, how it had occurred. The Player assumed that this Queen would as well, but… Well, it wasn’t as if she could ask either of them, really. One was who knows where, and one was quite frankly holding her captive, and didn’t seem to the be type to shoot the breeze. “So, everything I can see outside the window here… is it part of the new districts?”

An excited noise had the Player blinking. Had…had the Elsen just _chirped?_ Elsen could chirp? What. No, wai— “Yes! You can see a good portion of New Alma from the Central Tower. New Alma is the main hub of commerce and goods production for the zones, and the center of the zone 1 Main District.” The Elsen was incredibly proud, its stutter going away as it waxed poetic about the city. It chirped again.

Meanwhile, the Player had to take a seat on the bed. There was so much that she hadn’t known. There was a whole world in this…world. It sounded dumb, but she really hadn’t been aware. This wasn’t fragments of a world broken, but the pieces of a world trying to rebuild. There were populaces, peoples that could think, _feel._

How…how had she supposed to have been able to destroy all of this?

How was she supposed to continue to do it? The mission was her only purpose, the only reason she was here. To complete it would send her home, but…

How could she do that?

Dark. It’s so dark. Make it stop. Please, make it stop. Where are my eyes? I want to see, I want to see her. Where did she go? He took her, he took my eyes, _I can’t see_. Where did he take her?

I have to find her.

**_W H E R E_ **

**_A R E_ **

**_Y O U_ **

**_?_ **

Something creeps into the city, claws and leather skin brushing brick and metal. He’s looking for you.

You won’t like it if he finds you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn’t realize this about last chapter until it was pointed out to me, but Dedan is an idiot.  
> Dedan: Fuck, tha’ doll is delicate, better be careful with her.  
> Also Dedan: Yeets the Player across the room.
> 
> Geez, I was having so much trouble with pacing in this chapter. Then I stuck on the Doom Eternal Soundtrack and DESTROYED it. Nothing like your own boss battle music to help you push through, amirite? At least I'm firmly into the world-building, and the next chapter should actually begin to move the plot along.
> 
> Also, totally not related to that last bit of the chapter, Phosphor-Sphere on Tumblr made some [fanart](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/639600320504332288/you-ever-just-realize-that-artists-are-out-there) I think you all should check out.


	4. C̶̹̣̦̯͔͋̅l̸̡̖͕͚̅ͅe̸̬͉̮͆̕à̴̼̱̞͈͓͗n̵̘̫̤̉̍̆̕ ̵͚̼̫̈̈́ū̷͍̯̗̿͝ͅp̶̢̻̯ ̶̠̯̠̘̊̕t̵̝̫̄h̷̟̤̉̽e̵̟͆͛̒͊̑ ̸̛͓̇͌m̷͍̞̬̌̽̓͘͜ȩ̴̢̡̞̭͑̏s̷̞̽̀̒s̸̗͑̔ (Error: Task Log Full)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedan is an asshole and writing him reflects that. He fought so hard to not do anything this chapter.

This world was a cruel one, unrelenting and ravenous. It chewed up those that faltered for even a moment, leaving them husks of what they could have been. Dedan was all too aware of that, his own face a testament to how vicious this world could be. That was why he found himself so obsessed with her.

She was delicate, fragile, defenseless, and yet _she was still here_. Fragile and delicate were words he rarely used, for things that he could describe as such never lasted, breaking under the pressure of the world. Just look at the Elsen, broken shells as they were. She was unlike anything he had ever gotten to possess, the glow from her soul undampened by the darkness that permeated everything else like grit and grime on brick. He looked down at her slack face, taking in her relaxed features cast in the dim twilight of the night sky.

She had never looked like that when she was awake, fearful of him or tense by his actions… She looked better like this, asleep, no distress to her features. Dedan had sat himself on the edge of the bed in his guest room—in her room, he supposed it was now. He had never had use for it as a guest room anyway, so it was no loss. In fact, Dedan grinned at the thought, it was much more of a gain than any form of loss. A guest room in exchange for a doll?

He would take that deal any day.

His smirk faded slightly, softening as he reached out his claws. He had to be careful, so very careful with the little doll. Her cheek gave lightly under his gentle caress, a shiver going up his spine. She was so fucking soft, he had never felt anything as soft as her. It felt like just a wrong twitch would rip right through her—and it would, he reminded himself, gently lifting her hand from where it had been curled in front of her. The wound had mostly healed, no scarring marring the soft skin, but it still served as a reminder. She could so easily be harmed, so easily broken by the outside. He didn’t know how she had gotten it, but she had been alone for only moments, and yet she had been injured. It was a miracle that the _Batter_ had managed to keep her as safe as he had, as beastly as he revealed himself to be.

A disgusting creature, really. The Batter was as brutish as Dedan himself, clearly unused to dealing with fairer creatures. There were so few in this world, it was of no surprise—in fact, Dedan could only name three he had ever seen: the Queen, Sucrose, and now, the Player. Still, at least Dedan was regimented, controlled, a man of military prowess and success. The Batter was a beast and nothing more, as his fight had revealed the man’s true nature. A soft chuckle left his teeth as he looked down at the still unaware Player.

He had hoped to steal her away from the Batter, that was why he had begun preparations while still in the Old District. He had sent word to the tailors to begin making some clothing, though as he cast his eye over her, he could see he had overestimated her size. It was understandable, she was far smaller than he had assumed. Bigger than an Elsen, but compared to him and the others? Fuck, compared to Enoch, she was the size of a toy!

Made his name of doll all the more appropriate though.

Heh, she was so warm. It was like petting a little flame, so fragile and easily snuffed out. Dedan pulled his claws away from her face reluctantly. He could have stayed there for hours more, relishing in the gentle give of his new toy, in the addicting warmth he could feel from her skin, but he had never been one to shirk his duties. And he did indeed have duties to attend to.

Standing from where he had been sat on the bed with his doll, Dedan wanted to groan as he strode from the room, taking care to lock the door securely behind him—wouldn’t do for his little doll to get any ideas. His office was just down the hall, the double doors imposing. His desk was piled high with the paperwork he had to complete, records and reports for the assorted Districts under his control. A separate stack off to the side was his gathered research regarding how to care for his little doll. He snorted.

It had been a bit of a learning curve, that was for sure. He had to dig up pre-Refounding documentation, hell, pre- _Corruption_ lore and myths from Japhet’s records halls. All that remained of information for beings like her, those unaffected by the Corruption, a mix of facts and rumors, myths and legends. Which truly brought up the question of **how** she could be here, an uncorrupted being, so long after the Corruption began. Everything had been touched by it, changed by its reach, and yet, impossible as she was his little doll glowed, free from the taint. The impossibility of her existence helped him swallow some of the more absurd claims her had found in his research, ones that if not for the regularity of their appearance he would have dismissed as drug hazed ramblings. Females used to bleed for a week each month, temperature changes to extremes could kill and even minor ones could make them ill, and that was not even to speak of the strange illnesses and afflictions he saw referenced but not described. How one could starve without touch, he did not know, but that would be one of the harder needs to meet for his little doll, he was sure.

And this was all from research, not including what he had learned from just a week of having his doll in house.

His little doll required at least two meals a day, if not the ideal of three a day. He himself only required a meal once every four days, the Elsen and Stretch even less than that. And what she could consume was just as unbelievable. _Water_. Not only was it something that his little doll could drink, it was required for her to live. She couldn’t ingest plastic—which the Elsen had only learned from her after two days of not ingesting fluids. That had set Dedan ill at ease, for his research had turned up that three days without fluids could kill back then. He had been so close to failing to properly care for his doll and he hadn’t even had the slightest clue.

In his defense though, what fucking logic was it that she could ingest _water_ , a substance that burned and caused the slow death of those that ingested it, but could not ingest liquid meats or plastic? It was a rare substance as it was, so it was fortunate that he had some in stock that he kept for…reasons. He had passed orders along to the filtration plant to increase the speed of production for it, which he was sure had concerned the fools. He didn’t fucking care. So long as they performed properly he would let the Elsen be.

He hated dealing with Elsen, really. If only the Stretch were a sturdier species, he would only assign tasks to them. Irksome as it was, they were too fragile to do the more menial tasks required to upkeep the zone, so he had to continue to utilize the Elsen. At least he had the PeaceKeepers as extensions of his strength, to patrol the streets and help keep the spectres from attacking.

Ugh, speaking of things he had to do, the build-up of paperwork was starting to become absurd. And he had to deal with that new issue, and general inspections were soon. That would mean he might have to leave his doll unattended in the flat for an extended period of time. That was just fucking asking for trouble, and yet the Queen... Well, she had made it clear that she needed him to deal with the increase of spectres. Not that he wouldn't have already, it was his fucking responsibility after all, but she had asked him to personally deal with the increase in his outer Districts. Normally he would just send his PeaceKeepers, but whatever. Fine. He cast his gaze over the mounds of paperwork he had to do. It was tedious, if mind-numbingly easy. And he was going to deal with it later. He needed to see the crime scene, and the longer that was put off the more likely something would go missing. Oh sure, he had Elsen and Stretch cordoning off the scene, but he trusted them as far as he could throw them.

Er, actually that was pretty far. Bad analogy. Fuck it. He didn’t trust them to be competent on this, that was what he meant. Whatever.

Striding through the ornate lobby of Central—his one concession to Japhet’s desire to help him build the “aesthetic value” of his zone (fucking weird ass bird)—Dedan barely acknowledged the greetings he was due. A tall, horrifically thin creature slid up next to him, easily meeting his strides with its twig legs. “General,” the Stretch greeted, its splintered teeth bared in a facsimile of a smile. Dedan cast a disinterested glance at the uniformed creature as it adjusted its goggles to see him. “The requested reports will be on your desk by the time you return. The tailor you wanted will be present tomorrow, as you wished.”

“Good. I don’t like ta be kept waiting.” The Stretch stumbled, catching the reprimand in Dedan’s tone. Its tiny, beady eyes were panicked behind the large corrective goggles that all Stretch wore to rectify their poor eyesight. It had more sense than to start begging, or even speak right now. The reports were supposed to be on Dedan’s desk yesterday evening, and yet here they were being delivered today. It knew it was on thin ice right now, and only its history of competent work was saving its skin. “Send a message ta Enoch tha’ I’m sending him a batch fer priority. I need ‘em back for assignments as soon as he can get ‘em here.” The Stretch hunched a little, its shoulder blades like knives pressed through its thin skin. Its spindly hands shook with relief—it was being granted a second chance. The General wasn’t known for giving those often, and it would take it as the miracle it was that he hadn’t killed it already.

“Yes General.” It slipped away eagerly, not forgetting to send a proper salute as it left in its haste. Dedan didn’t spare the creature another thought as he exited the building through the double doors held open by his PeaceKeepers. A small contingent stood at attention at the base of the steps, unmoving as they waited. The large suits of armor fell in behind him with mechanical precision, clanking in unison. Honestly, the PeaceKeepers were the only things Dedan did their work properly around here, outside himself.

He paid the Elsen and Stretch that near dove to avoid him and his unit little mind. It was unusual for him to join general patrols in the Main District, but the particular issue that had cropped up was beginning to irritate him. He could deal with the constant fight against black-market trading, he could deal with the exasperation of finding the speakeasies and shutting them down, but this. This was an issue that needed to be dealt with quickly.

Elsen and Stretch were disappearing. Now, he wasn’t all that torn up about losing a few of the fuckers—hell, he often “lost” a couple for stress relief, but how they were disappearing was _unacceptable_. Blood had been found staining the back streets on several occasions now, speaking of a violence that neither species was known for. It meant that the disappearances were caused by something else, a spectre or something. It could be a particularly hazardous spectre, given the increase in activity lately, but it didn’t feel right to him. Dedan growled lightly, turning into the alleyway. He hated working without all the facts—he was a strategist at heart, after all.

This was pissing him off. Something, spectre or not, was stalking his zone, hunting his citizens, taking from him. He was going to _fucking destroy them_. Smoke curled from his cigar as he was let into the cordoned off scene, the location of the most recent incident. He crouched down, brushing his claws against the gashes torn in the ground. They were bigger than his own claws by a slight margin, deep too. Whatever had done it wasn’t fucking around.

“You!” The Elsen he had singled out squeaked, causing him to roll his eyes. “Send a message ta tha’ Memo Department. I want a curfew in place by tomorrow.” He motioned to one of the PeaceKeepers to follow the cowardly thing, not trusting it to make it there on its own, the stupid creature. The Elsen scrambled away with a “yes sir!”, the PeaceKeeper clanking after it, easily matching the frenzied stumbling of the much smaller creature.

Dedan turned back to the crime scene, standing up as he took another drag on his cigar. It was interesting, but he could feel something lingering on the scene, soaked into the brick and metal around him. A vice, a subsection of the sin of Greed to be exact. **_O B S E S S I O N._** It wasn’t a vice he often encountered, and certainly not the one he would expect to feel at the site of a violent crime. It intrigued him as much as it unsettled him. Whatever had done this could express to a degree, could fixate. Spectres could feel, by the very nature of their being, but to possess the ability to focus, to have desires… that would be new. It was another point in favor of his gut feeling that this was not a spectre, but he wasn’t so foolish as to dismiss the possibility just yet. Whatever had done this was strong, and not taking this seriously would be a fool’s chance.

The vice had to be a driving motivation for the incident for it to be this strong, to have lingered here despite the amount of time since the action. Dedan couldn’t feel a trail of it unfortunately, only its presence soaked into the area. There was another vice beneath the Obsession, but it was too weak to be clear under the predominance of the first. Dedan snuffed out his cigar, wanting to groan. He would have too, had he been alone, but he did have somewhat of an image to maintain.

This shit couldn’t be happening at a worse time. He was still getting used to keeping a doll, there had been an increase in general spectre activity across all the Districts, the monthly Guardian meeting to present their reports to the Queen was this week, and there had been a rash of Burnings this month to boot. And now, to top the shit sundae off, he was dealing with some kind of creature hunting his citizens. Fucking fantastic. When it rained, it poured, he supposed.

Whatever.

Dedan would deal with this as he dealt with everything. With extreme prejudice, until not a piece remained. He would increase PeaceKeeper patrols around the District, institute that curfew—which also might cut down on the speakeasy issue, a nice little bonus—and he would have his Stretch keep their ears to the ground for anything unusual. He would find this irritant, and when he did… Dedan chuckled, the cruel smirk he wore leading the Elsen present to shudder, the Stretch nearby to avert their eyes from his form, backlit by the faint grey glow coming from the PeaceKeepers’ joints.

**_Well, there was a reason his own sin was W R A T H ._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so late because Dedan is a jerk. Shout-out to Phosphor-sphere (or Ell here on AO3) for letting me rant at them about his angry, grouchy ass. It helped me deal with his refusal to work with me here.
> 
> Whoops, almost forgot. The descriptions of the Stretch and PeaceKeepers are fairly vague, because Dedan already knows what they look like. You'll get a better image of them once the Player meets them too.
> 
> EDIT: I FORGOT TO LINK THESE  
> Phosphor-Sphere has once again graced me with delights and gifts!  
> [Teaching Your Morons](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/641387095791960064/a-surprise-gift-from-phosphor-sphere-i-love)  
> [Player and her new dress <3](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/641304161577762816/oh-my-stars-isnt-that-dress-just-beautiful)  
> [DEDAN](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/640317799011663872/as-a-non-visual-arty-type-getting-to-see-the)

**Author's Note:**

> Need to contact me, or want to send me something? MEDIA LINKS. I got 'em. (Though Tumblr is the only one that's really active)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LynxOnSmoothies)  
> [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/lynxonsmoothies)  
> [Tumblr](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/)  
> [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/lynxonsmoothies)


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